I need you to leave

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I need you to leave

You’ve overstayed your welcome

Not that you were ever welcome in my space.

You didn’t have permission

To be here

To take what you stole from me

To rob me of what little innocence I had left.

I need you to leave

You don’t belong here

Stop pretending to be cool

Your misogyny betrays you

Your rage betrays you

Your inappropriate touching betrays you.

I need you to leave

Your very presence

Your communication

You dare speak to me

You dare deny the truth of our past

You violate me by being here.

I need you to leave

You hurt people

Your words hurt

Your hands hurt

Your fury hurts

Your body wounded me for life

Your deception isn’t fooling anyone.

I need you to leave

It’s you or me

I want you to go

I need you out of my space.

Everyday you’re here I feel violated again.

I need you to leave

Please fucking go

Please find your boundaries somewhere else

Please leave

I need you to leave

Or I might die.

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Sigh….time to write, again?

So I’ve been noticeably absent and busy surviving.  Today I was out riding on a bike path and he reminded me that I could take time to enjoy the setting.  He said he knew I was trying to survive and that I would, but I could take my time.  I feel like, after I stopped huffing and puffing and crying from the pain in my hips, thighs, calves and lungs, that what he said meant so much more in terms of my life.  I’ve really, really been struggling with my emotions. In an ugly, visceral way, when I’m not super happy, I’m super depressed or super angry or super just want to eat and curl up with my iPad on the sofa and play games and swipe through Facebook.

I am obsessed with podcasts.  Am I learning?  Oh yes, maybe too much.  The more I learn, the sadder I become, like John B. in the amazing S-town podcast. If you read this blog, check that out!  S-town from the producers of This American Life.  So….back to me.  I want to do more than survive but I don’t want to do things to avoid learning how to grow and become more than the person surviving and overcoming obstacles.  It is a problem of privilege, and that self-awareness is oddly painful.  I have so much to say and so much I feel, and probably no one cares which is totally fine as I need to get it out.

Raising kids in Donald Trump America, multi-racial black children in this America, is so frustrating.  I often wish I were part of the sheeple, and that I could delude myself into thinking America is post-racial.  What the world is that anyway?  Morons.  Sorry, if any of my friends read this and they think “Hey she just called me a moron.”  If you’re that much of a snowflake, unfriend me.  If you cannot handle that this state of the nation SUCKS for nearly all people and is only good for white males who want to perpetuate the cycle of white rich power, then unfriend me.  I can’t worry about your feelings.  I need to worry about the people whose feelings mean nothing to those in power, my brown children.

I’m just getting started.  It’s not going to be pretty.  The bike rides so far this season have been challenging. I am so out of shape and it hurts so much.  He is great and encourages me.  At least when we are doing this, there’s no poking or mockery, just a realization what it takes for Asthmatic me to get my butt out and moving in the world.  Exercise is quite frankly embarassing for me, and I know I’m someone some twit will gym shame someday although I hope going to the Y rather than a gym will help limit that.  I am loud and insane when I am working out, sometimes I even kinda cry from the pain.  My lungs scream………..but I have the ability to workout and my sofa is not improving my mind.

Depression sucks.  Exercise helps.  Podcasts expand my brain and my butt.  Ha!  So temptation bundling it shall be.  Take something you love, that is tempting, and bundle it with something you hate.  Workout listening to podcast, for example.

Rambling?  Yes.  Today I am allowing myself to be unfocused and all over the place.  Read it.  Don’t.  I don’t care today.

Forks on me or how I flung my iced coffee across the sidewalk

It all started with a fork. It was sitting there, innocently minding it’s business while I ate hummus with raw vegetables. Somehow I flipped it off the hightop table to the ground. While I was picking it up, my other fork committed suicide to join the first one. #romeoandjuliet

Later that evening there was a missed 2 inch step, and a body hurtling toward a door after successfully ascending and descending 3 flights of stairs in 5 inch platform heels. #onlyaklutz

The next day, miles of walking in flip flops. Walking up to Rite-Aid, didn’t see the curb and landed right (bad) knee first, then other knee and hands. Yes. Face plant with a nearly full iced coffee. Knee throbbing all I could say was, “I need more coffee”, repeatedly. #addictmuch

Later the same afternoon, after walking a total of 6 miles in flip flops, climbing the infamous 3 flights again, I stumble, fall, steady myself and grab her leg like a walker in a zombie flick. “Sorry K,” I manage while laughing hysterically. She says “Are you sure you don’t have a neurological disorder? “. Personally, I’m starting to wonder. #whatiswrongwithme

Same afternoon. I don’t even have my own plate of food, I’m sharing from two. And I send her fork flying to the ground. Not mine. Hers. At this point it looks intentional. Or at least forks are very very afraid of me. As am I. #iamdangerous

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Total SUCK. W2 D2.

 Imagine an incredibly warm windy day out of nowhere and the joy it would produce in the runner…..well most runners anyway.  When I laced up it was 71 and I thought to myself WOW, that’s actually hot by my standards, ok.  I made sure I had my inhaler tucked into my bra, a full water bottle on my hand, and as little clothing as possible on my body.  I set out and had app issues with the pink ribbon C25K app…UGH!  It didn’t tell me to run, so I was walking, so I had to back up the app.  So far I feel pretty good but evidently…super slow.  My first mile was an entire minute slower.  Being colder definitely helps me move faster. But whatever, it’s week 2, it’s all about the breathing now.

I work my way into the second mile, and I just feel OFF.  My legs feel like lead.  I feel like I can’t pick my feet up, I’m almost stumbling or shuffling.  I just want to survive this workout and get home.  The wind is battering me and making me feel like I have no footing.  I stop to take pictures, tweet, and then get going again, restarting the still malfunctioning app.  It kept opening the app store and then the verbal prompts didn’t happen; I was sooooo aggravated.  I want to love running today because it’s beautiful but my path was closed and my body felt like….ASS.  I said it.  ASS.  It felt like dirty smelly been at work too long ASS.

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I think I need to 1. Hydrate better while teaching and 2. Fuel my body better.  I’m sure some people can run after they eat anything but that cookie I ate at the end of the day was………..foolish.  I felt like a heffer and when I feel like a heffer I eat like one.  See how self-fulfilling negative thoughts are?  Stupid heffer.  Lose some damn weight….heffer.  There’s a fat ass runner and then there’s a fat ass runner who is still eating crap on occasion when she needs to detox.   So.  No more total suck.  It has to stop here, it’s time to get serious about calories and clean eating.  W3 has to be better than W2.  W2 D3 will be better…..I will turn off the negative tape in my head next time I run.  I have to say nice things to my body so it can perform despite the many obstacles it faces.  I need to love myself better, extra pounds and all.  

 

Nearly 8 months without a run…Day 2

It was day 2.  I set out and my calves and quads were tight as I walked briskly for the five-minute warmup thinking to myself….must get further than I did on Saturday.  And I did.  So then I relaxed a  little and let my body fall into the rhythm.  After the first running interval all I could think was….OMG…how many of these?  My brain was calculating 60 seconds times 8 that’s 8 minutes and 90 seconds times 8 is 720 seconds which is 12 minutes…ok that’s 20 yep I’m a teacher I can totally do that in my head while running to distract myself from…dying!

It was sunny, 35 and beautiful, really, not too windy.  And I was on a roll, finished mile one at 14:57 and she said you’re halfway!  YAY I made it a mile….that was so fast, so I went a few extra feet before turning around at the end of the building.  At the end of that running interval I started to hack and get a cramp again…..no sir, hey I know how to do this….slow deep breaths, two deep fast breaths, slow shallow….I was deep breathing out of asthmatic panic, old school.  Neurons, muscles, working well together.  Cardiovascular…well a little pissed off from so much time working 70 hours a week and not doing…CARDIO.

This time I was shocked when she said “one more minute” so I jogged that last minute slowly before my cooldown, old school AGR style.  I know people who can’t run at all.  People who struggle even more than I do.  And I know one thing for certain, whether I can always run or not, as long as I continue my cardio, I am Asthma Girl Runner….I will always be a runner at heart, for life.

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Day 1

I started with a brisk walk and I felt alive, every step connecting my body to my neighborhood to my city and to my world. Every familiar landmark that I ran past felt like a milestone conquered. Grandview. Dayton Art Institute. MacPhersontown. The river stairway. Main Street bridge. Almost to Riverscape and back.
My asthma was so loud. It probably scared people. But still every time my app told me to run I ran. I ran until I coughed so hard I almost puked during one walking interval. I ran until I cried. I screamed I want to die. But I ran every interval and I never ever stopped moving.
If you’ve never run you might question my sanity. But if you have, I don’t need to explain myself; once a runner you always want to be one again, even when it hurts. Hell. Especially when it hurts.

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